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woman who was supposed to be his mother. Did his mother want to terminate him, just like my parents wanted to terminate crazy old Betty when she was a pest?
    It was dark out when the bus pulled into Port Authority in New York. Gwen and I hauled our suitcases into the terminal along with the rest of the kids. The bus ride into the city was provided by the school on the condition that the child was met at the station. Gwen and I were both being met by our dads.
    ‘Shit!’ Gwen hissed. She dropped her suitcase on the polished linoleum floor. ‘He brought her.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Rabbit fur at high noon.’
    Straight ahead of us, standing by a candy machine, was a slender woman in a hip-length, checkered, rabbit fur jacket.She wore tailored slacks and very high heels. Her shaggy hair was hennaed and teased. I couldn’t see her face: it was too busy being kissed by the balding, stumpy man whose hands were planted on the back of the fur jacket. A gold wedding band squeezed the man’s bloated finger.
    ‘Oh my God,’ Gwen said. ‘He went ahead and did it, he married her!’ She turned around, frantic. ‘Oh please Kate, please let me come home with you this weekend!’
    ‘Come on,’ I said.
    She picked up her suitcase and glided around the corner, out of sight of her father. When I caught up with her, she was standing against a wall lighting a cigarette, cupping her hands around a tiny match flame. Her face lit up orange.
    ‘Wait here,’ I said. ‘I’ll go find my dad.’
    I looked and looked, but couldn’t see him anywhere. Finally, I stationed myself by the gate where our bus came in, thinking he’d look for me there. Meanwhile, Mr Perle (Gwen’s dad) stood by that candy machine necking with his wife. It was disgusting. It made me nervous just to be near him, knowing he was such a sleazeball, and that he was waiting to take Gwen, and that she was just around the corner.
    At last, Dad showed up. He came barrelling out of the throng in a blue suit, hauling the famous old briefcase he’d been using ever since law school. His salt-and-pepper hair was a bushy mess, but I thought he looked handsome. His red tie flapped over his shoulder as if from the wind he’d created by hurrying to reach me. It was an old joke of ours. Whenever he was late meeting me somewhere, he’d throw his tie over his shoulder and come running.
    ‘My heels are on fire,’ he said. He stooped to kiss my cheek. ‘How’s my girl?’
    I hugged him with all my might.
    ‘Mom can’t wait to see you.’ He picked up my suitcase.
    ‘How’s Betty?’
    He smiled. ‘She’s fine.’
    We were walking in the direction of the street exit, wherewe could get a taxi to take us to Grand Central Station, when I heard the clop clop of footsteps running up behind us. In my excitement, I had completely forgotten about Gwen.
    ‘Hey!’ she called.
    We turned around. There she was, dragging her suitcase, her eyes mean-narrow and her lips mad-tight.
    ‘Fuckwad! What am I supposed to do?’
    Dad looked at me with the blank expression that meant he was prepared to be surprised.
    ‘That’s Gwen,’ I said, ‘my roommate.’
    She dropped her suitcase and sighed. ‘You must be the old man,’ she said.
    Dad looked at me and I could see a glimmer of a smile.
    We walked into the house and Betty flashed across the living room just like her old self. But when she tried to jump off the back of the couch, instead of clinging to the heavy fabric, she slid backwards.
    “That’s pathetic,’ Gwen said.
    ‘What’s wrong with her?’ I asked Dad.
    ‘Mom’s cooking dinner. Why don’t you go say hello.’
    I was no fool. He was ignoring me, which meant something was wrong. I picked Betty up and she patted my face with paws that felt like cotton balls. Gwen squeezed one of Betty’s pads.
    ‘This cat has been declawed!’ she said. “That’s cruelty to animals, you know.’ I pressed the pad of Betty’s little white paw. No claws sprang out. Nothing sprang out.